Omagh

In 1998 the so-called Real IRA (a split from the original IRA that didn't agree with the peace process in Northern Ireland) exploded a 200 kg bomb in one of the most crowded streets of the city of Omagh. More than 30 dead, hundreds of wounded people... No one were judged for those crimes. The politicians were afraid that the peace process might end and just "let it be".

"Omagh" approaches to those facts from the point of view of the victims. The initial shock, the confusion, the anxiety... The first half hour of the movie is just hair-raising, and if you're a very sensitive person you should't see it. For the rest of you: the film is just superb, and it isn't gruesome at all. Pete Travis shows the facts as they were, but so carefully and with a style that makes the movie look like a documentary.

The work of the actors is outstanding, for it's so hard to play that kind of characters (they're so emotional).

*My rate: 8/10

Having just seen this film, I believe that some superlatives are warranted! The performances in this film are hauntingly powerful, most notably Gerald Mcsorley, whose immense portrayal adds credibility and resonance to the tragic story. The direction is magnificent...mostly shot in the style of a documentary, while refraining from actually being a mockumentary. This also adds weight. The fact that this creative, interesting and powerful film only finds a home on TV, rather than at the cinemas...while films like Sex lives and the Potato Men gets a general release, says a lot about the British Film industry!

I do not believe I have ever seen a movie that more truthfully and compellingly captures tragedy than Pete Travis's Omagh.

Omagh tells the story of the 1998 Real IRA bombing that killed 29 people in the city of Omagh, Northern Ireland, and the aftermath that followed. Yet what endears me to this film is that this could have been any town, any family, any tragedy. The film is completely without frills. It is one of the few films I've seen that does not romanticize death and tragedy. It has no towering musical score telling your emotions where to go (there is no score at all, actually), no dramatic final words, no sanguine epitaphs. Instead, Travis shows us what the camera usually leaves out -- the dirty dishes after the funeral party has left your house, the ubiquitous reporters asking for pictures of the deceased, the kind but nuisance of a neighbor offering help when you just want to be left alone.

The technical aspects of the film were all very well done, as were the actors' performances. Everything about the film makes you feel as though you are looking through a window into what really happened at Omagh, rather than watching an screen adaptation of the events. Omagh is well worth a see.

The most salient fact about this TV movie is that its two hours' running time includes 65 speaking parts. Torn between focusing on one or two human stories behind Northern Ireland's worst terrorist outrage and giving a panorama of the politics that led to it, the production settles for wheeling on almost every Ulster character actor you ever saw and others besides. Even an Oscar winner, Brenda Fricker, is in there somewhere, so she is: blink and you'll miss her.

This jittery kaleidoscope creates confusion and dissipates sympathy; as soon as we begin to dig into one victim's backstory, we're off at another tangent. Neither good art nor good commerce, such worthy exercises in the reconstruction of recent events fall between the stools of documentary and drama.

Like many, "Omagh" is shot in "swivelvision" in the common but quite mistaken belief that this makes it look more "real"-- as though documentarists had never learned to use Steadicam. It tiptoes delicately through the minefield of libel that bedevils moveimakers trying to portray unresolved situations: a title at the end tells us that the suspected bombers all deny involvement, so there is no catharsis to be obtained by showing them going to jail. Making us feel sorry for the bereaved is easy meat; but like many an American "issue" movie, all this one will generate in viewers outside Northern Ireland is smug relief at being hors de combat.

I never heard of Peter Travis prior to "Omagh" but the direction in this film deserves more than equal billing with Gerard McSorley, who stars the bereaved father who becomes chairman of the Omagh Support Group. The mounting tension at the start of the film as the bomb is positioned, the police are warned and the crowd on the High Street is herded to the spot where the explosion takes place is enough to take your breath away. It doesn't matter in the least that the accents are difficult for these American ears to understand at the film's beginning because you somehow know exactly what's happening at every moment. The frantic search for the missing son, the dawning realization that he has died, the intense grief, the formation of the Omagh Support Group with McSorley emerging as its leader, the effort to ensure that the investigation is pursued, the determination of the politicians that the incident not be allowed to derail "the peace process," the evasions and downright lies of the police, the mysterious emergence of the truth, the condemnation of police conduct by the police ombudswoman -- all are rendered with controlled intensity that never flags. One device that Travis and his cameraman use repeatedly to great effect is the extreme closeup in which a portion of the character's face is shown, framed usually at an artful angle that a skilled portrait photographer might adopt for a still picture. Those pictures capture the emotions of the characters with particular force. The tragedy of Omagh is brought alive to devastating effect. Don't let the fact that it was made for TV deter you from seeing this superb movie.